


The Wedding of Georgina Holmes (or How Sherlock Holmes learns the hard way not to mess with the bride)

by theSapphireSky



Series: The Detective and the Pathologist [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Father of the Bride AU, Georgina Holmes, Hilarity Ensues, Like REALLY REALLY Not Good, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, and some angst, but happy ending of course!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4729346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theSapphireSky/pseuds/theSapphireSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A prompt from the fantastic Mandy95 for a Father of the Bride AU! Much love, my dear, for being a fabulous Beta and a wonderful person all around!</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Wedding of Georgina Holmes (or How Sherlock Holmes learns the hard way not to mess with the bride)

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from the fantastic Mandy95 for a Father of the Bride AU! Much love, my dear, for being a fabulous Beta and a wonderful person all around!

‘Where is she? Her flight landed twenty minutes ago,’ Sherlock complained and tried to see over the throng of people milling around them.

Molly reached over and threaded her arm through his to calm him, her tone fondly exasperated. ‘She has to get through customs, love. Be grateful we’re not waiting for her to come through US customs. We’d be waiting for hours.’

Sherlock huffed and pulled out his mobile. He was just about to press the dial button to call her when Molly let go of him with a soft exclamation.

‘Georgina!’

His head whipped up and he felt his heart catch at the sight of the familiar black curls bouncing towards him. He breathed a sigh of relief and followed his wife as they shouldered their way through the crowd. As they got closer, he slowed down when he saw a young man following closely behind his daughter. Molly swept Georgina into her arms, identical smiles on their faces. Sherlock ran his gaze over the man and felt something settle uncomfortably in his stomach at what he read.

‘Daddy!’ Georgina had let go of Molly only to run over to him and tackle him. Immediately forgetting the man, Sherlock grinned and, on impulse, twirled his daughter about like he had done when she was a child. She shrieked in surprise and laughed, the sound warming his heart. He had missed her these past three months. America was too far away and he’d be damned if she ever left London again.

Finally setting her down, he glanced up to see Molly shaking the man’s hand, a bright smile on her face. He glowered. Did she not know that the young man had designs on their daughter? It was clear from the dilated pupils when the man looked at Georgina and the familiar way his fingers threaded through hers to tug her to his side! Sherlock froze in horror as one more deduction crossed his mind. This  _boy_  had seen Sherlock’s daughter naked! His fists clenched at his sides and it was only because he knew it would be a bit not good to level the boy to the ground that he restrained his urge to clobber the idiot.

Through clenched teeth, he snarled, ‘Who is this?’

Molly was immediately at his side, reading the tenseness in his shoulders and knowing that the last time he spoke in that tone, he had ended up breaking Mycroft’s nose for letting Georgina eat sweets before dinner. She hooked her arm through his and held herself tight to his side as Georgina looked up at the  _idiot_ adoringly.

‘Mum, Dad, this is Nicholas...’ Georgina turned to them, her eyes hazy with what Sherlock could only assume was belated adolescent hormones. ‘…my fiancé.’

Molly gasped in delight, even as Sherlock’s eyes widened and he felt the ground beneath him cave in. Georgina was barely twenty-two and this… this… this  _idiot_  was trying to steal her away! ‘What?’ He hissed and took a threatening step toward the  _idiot._  The soon-to-be impotent idiot, if Sherlock had his way.

‘Nicholas Burke, Mister Holmes.’ The  _idiot_  extended his hand in greeting, clearly too stupid to see that he was one more inappropriate look at Sherlock’s daughter away from castration.

‘Lovely to meet you,’ Molly interjected before Sherlock could say anything and shook the idiot’s hand. She shot her husband a warning glance telling him without words to keep a lid on whatever deductions and threats he wanted to make.  ‘Let’s get your luggage and get home, okay? Then we can get the whole story and get to know you, Nicholas.’

Sherlock shot her a dirty glare, but her return scowl cowed him into petulant silence as he trailed behind them to luggage claim, listening to Georgina’s and Molly’s gushing chatter. He glared at the back of the  _idiot’s_ blonde head and imagined all the ways he could kill him on the way to Baker Street. He had come up with thirty-seven by the time they were climbing into the car Mycroft had provided. Georgina and Nicholas sat across from the elder couple and the fierce protectiveness Sherlock had fostered for his daughter since before she had even been born grew tenfold as he watched her interact with her…  _fian…_ no, he couldn’t even think the word.

‘So, Ni _ck_ ,’ Sherlock interrupted the women’s conversation, nearly choking on the last syllable of the  _idiot’s_ name. ‘How long have you been shagging my daughter?’

‘Daddy!’

‘Sherlock!’

He ignored the indignant outbursts from Molly and Georgina, only tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in expectation. Nicholas flushed deep red and blinked rapidly, a bead of sweat forming on his temple and he subconsciously shifted away from Georgina. ‘I-uh, we haven’t… not long, just…’

Georgina squeezed his hand and shot a dirty glare at her father, one he knew she had learned from him. Her eyes, so like his own, were filled with anger and she leaned into the idiot purposefully. ‘Don’t answer him, Nicholas. He’s just being a jerk.’

‘Don’t insult me, young lady,’ Sherlock snapped. Molly gripped his knee tightly in warning. A warning he ignored. ‘You come home from a three month assignment for New Scotland Yard with a fiancé attached to your hip. A man you have never mentioned before who comes from a middle class  _American_ family,’ he scoffed at the very idea of her consorting with an American. ‘He is of average intelligence, at best, something you must know, being the product of my own brilliant mind. He has no redeeming qualities that would make him a suitable spouse, from his unbelievable ordinariness to his delusional desire to pursue a woman well out of his ‘league,’ as they say. So you must be having copious amounts of satisfying intercourse in order to consider a legal union as the best option instead of breaking up when your assignment ended and you had to return to London.’

Molly sighed beside him and slid her arm from his to cross them over her chest. Nicholas was sweating profusely, but instead of cowering under Sherlock’s deductions, he sat up straighter and stared firmly back at the Consulting Detective in a futile show of bravery.

But it was Georgina’s reaction that told Sherlock he had most definitely gone too far. Her eyes were locked on his and an icy anger radiated from her stiff figure. Sherlock had often thought she took after Molly in temperament and him in intelligence. But at this moment, he could only see himself in the way she glowered at him, a cold mask of anger on her pale features.

The rest of the ride to Baker Street was spent in tense silence. Molly refused to look at him, but he could feel the disappointment pouring off her in waves. Nicholas was staring out the window at the new sights, but his attention was on Georgina, his thumb rubbing soft circles in her palm. Sherlock didn’t relish the thought, but he begrudgingly acknowledged that the  _idiot_  was attuned to Georgina’s need for her own space to think, while still giving her whatever comfort he could; something Molly did for him. Georgina refused to look away from him, her glare unwavering. She hadn’t responded to his remarks, letting her anger and disappointment speak through her silence.

When the car finally pulled up to the curb alongside, Georgina quickly slid out, pulling Nicholas behind her. Molly turned to him before he could climb out and gripped his hand.

‘Sherlock, look at me,’ she whispered. He sat back, but didn’t obey, knowing he would see the disappointment in the brown eyes he loved so much, something he had worked so hard and had succeeded in preventing for many years. A hand cupped his jaw and turned his face until he was forced to look down at her. She smiled softly at him, not a trace of disappointment in her gaze, just understanding.

‘Give him a chance, sweetheart.’ She brushed a curl from his forehead. ‘Look what loving me did for you. You’re happy, at least I hope you are.’ She smiled when he nodded. ‘Perhaps that’s what he will do for her. When was the last time we saw her so unencumbered by her genius? Not since she was a child.’

‘But to  _marry him?!_ ’ He retorted incredulously.

Molly shook her head and smiled. ‘Let’s get to know him before we decide against him as Georgina’s husband.’

_Georgina’s husband._ Sherlock felt himself pale at the thought, a sick feeling weighing in his gut.

Georgina and the idiot were still struggling to pull their luggage from the boot when Molly and Sherlock finally climbed from the car. Sherlock, with a not-so-subtle hint from Molly, took over for Georgina and helped the idiot tug the bags free. Hauling straps and bags across his back and shoulders, Sherlock paused for a moment to wonder when he had gone from being the world’s only Consulting Detective to being the pack mule for his daughter’s ridiculous number of shoes and extensive lab equipment.

The idiot was in much the same condition, the bags bumping his legs as they followed the women into the flat. Molly was fussing over Georgina and immediately insisting she freshen up with a change of clothes after their long flight while she fixed them some tea. Sherlock dumped the bags in the middle of the room and caught Georgina’s arm when she made to walk past him toward the idiot.

Her eyes flashed angrily and she glared up at him.

‘Gina, I--’

‘Don’t,’ she snapped and jerked her arm from his grasp, ignoring the soft use of her pet name. ‘Just… don’t.’

She grabbed a smaller bag from the floor and marched over to the idiot, who slowly set his bags down and followed her out to the landing and up the stairs to her room. The door slammed loudly behind them, the sound physically making Sherlock’s heart ache. As much as he detested the idea of the  _idiot_  stealing away his sweet, innocent daughter ( _innocent?!_  A scoffing voice that sounded very much like John Watson echoed in his mind, but he brushed it aside), he knew he would have to make allowances for said  _idiot_  in his home for a while.


End file.
